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CATCHY LOO SE-LEAF PLAY SERIES 

THE WrLl7fs N. BUG BEE CO., SYRACUSE, N. Y. 

Barlow's Borrowing 

By MARIE IRISH 

CHARACTERS: Barlow Bates, a rather (jood-sizcd boy, dressed 
to make him seem fat and youthful; Tillie Rogers, a girl of about 
the same age as Barlow; Mrs. Rogers, an energetic hoiiseicife. 

SCENE : The living room in the Rogers ho}uc. Tillie sits read- 
ing. 



(Enter MRS. ROGERS.) 

Mrs. Rogers. Tillie, what are you doing? 

Tillie {indifferently). Milking cows. 

Mrs. Rogers {anmzed). You are not! You're reading another one 
of them silly stories ; that's what you're doinj*-. Milking cows ! The 
idea ! 

Tillie. Well, what'd you ask me for, when you knew ? 

Mrs. Rogers {looking off). Dear me, here comes that silly, fat 
Barlow Bates, I wonder what he wants? 

Tillie {with dignity). You needn't call Barlow silly. He's a nice 
boy. He's one of my — admirers. 

Mrs. Rogers. Admirers — fiddlesticks! Don't talk such foolishness. 
{Goes over to side.) Come in, Barlow. How are you today? 

(Barlow enters, stands grinning shyly at Tillie.) 

Tillie {ivith ceremony). Won't you have a chair? 

Barlow {embarrassed). I — yes, ma'am, — no, ma'am, I guess I 
can't sit down. 

Mrs. Rogers, Is there something you want? 

Barlow. Could you — could you lend me a pound of salyratus? 

Mrs. Rogers. A POUND ! What does she want of all that soda ? 

Barlow. I — er — mean a — a — cupful. 

Mrs. Rogers. What's she going to do with it? 

Copyright, 1926, by Willis N. Bugbee, 



J" ■ 

Barlow. Oh, 1 — er — I — guess — make a puddin'. \^ (K^ 

Mrs. Rogers. Huh! Must be a funny pudding that takes a cJp 
of soda. Well, I'll go get it for you. (She goes off.) 

Barlow. Say, Tillie, say, I — I you know 'bout it, don't you? 

TiLLiE. There's a lot of things I know 'bout. Which you mean? 
Barlow. That Jim Crooker is goin' to have a party. g 

TiT'LlE. Sure. I'm goin'. I'm goin' to wear a new dress. 
Barlow (disappointed) . Aw, shucks, that's too bad. 
Tillie (importantly). Well, I think it's fine. 

Barlow. But when you're dressed up I'll bet you won't want to eat 
supper with me, to the party. 

Tillie (coquettishhj) . Well, maybe — I will. I'll see. 

(Enter Mrs. Rogers, carrying a large cup.) 

Mrs. Rogers. Here 'tis. Barlow. Wait, I'll put a paper over it. 
Now don't you stumble and spill it. (She is putting paper over cup.) 
Look where you're going. This ought to make a pudding for all the 
folks at a Fourth of July celebration. (Gives Barlow the cup.) 

Barlow. Yes, ma'am. Thank you. (Grins at Tillie on sly.) 
Ma'll be 'bliged. (He stands aivkivardly.) 

Mrs. Rogers (briskly). Well, you better run 'long with it so's your 
ma can have it. 

Barlow. Yes, ma'am — I — yes, ma'am. (Grins at Tillie and goes 
off.) 

Mrs. Rogers. A cup of saleratus ! I don't believe he knows what 
he's talkin' 'bout. The big lummox! 

Tillie (with spirit). Shame on you to talk 'bout Barlow that way. 

Mrs. Rogers (looking off). Forever more! Here he comes back 
again. (She goes over and admits Jiim.) Hope you didn't spill it. 

(Re-enter Barlow.) 

Barlow. Yes, ma'am, I — mean, no, ma'am. I ain't spilled it, but g 
it wasn't salyratus that ma wants. Can I borry her some — some — a " 
cup of — tea? 

Mrs. Rogers. Cup of — tea? Good sakes, your ma's got tea — she 
bought a pound the other day when I was in the store. 

Barlow. Well, it's — I guess the rats ate it. 

Mrs. Rogers. I didn't know rats ever ate tea. 

Tillie. Why don't you go get him some tea, ma? You've got a lot. 

©CID 77284 OCT30'26 TMP96-a06500 



Mrs. Rogers. This is funny. (She takes cup from Barlow and 
goes off.) 

Barlow (eagerly). Say, Tillie, — say — I — I — want to tell you — to 
ask you — say, why can't you lemme bring you from — from the party? 

Tillie. Maybe Bud Elkins will wanta bring me. 

Barlow. Aw, that Bud Elkins — he's a sap — he's a giraffee, aw, 
he's a — a rhine-osser-rus. Lemme bring you, Tillie. 

Tillie. Well, I — guess — maybe — I will. (Smiles at him.) 

Barlow. Say, that's grand. Don't you fergit. 

(Enter Mrs. Rogers.) 

Mrs. Rogers. Look here, Barlow, what do you mean by this? Your 
mother tells me she never sent you here for soda or tea, either one. 
I telephoned to her. 

Barlow (embarrassed). Aw, that's jes' like ma, tellin' things 
like that on me. (Happily.) Well, it's all right, anyway. 

Mrs. Rogers. / don't think it's all right for you to tell such fibs. 
It's wrong. Why did you do it? 

Barlow. Well, you see, I— I — had to see Tillie. I had to ask her 
something. 

Tillie (proudly). I think it was fine for him to think up a way to 
get to talk to me. I think he's smart. 

Mrs. Rogers. Cats and fiddlesticks! Well, your ma said for you 
to come right home. 

Tillie (anxiously) . I hope she won't scold you. 

Barlow (bravely). Aw, that'll be all right. 

Mrs. Rogers. She ought to whip you. 

Barlow (happily). Well, that'll be all right. (Aside to Tillie.) 
Now you be sure an' remember. 

Mrs. Rogers. You better go. Your ma wants you. 
Barlow. Yes, ma'am, thank you, good-by. (Goes off, looking back 
to smile at Tillie as curtain falls.) 

Curtain. 



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